


Forgiveness

by schreibzumlesen



Series: rattle your chains if you love being free [4]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: BDSM, Dom!Yennefer, Dom/sub, F/M, M/M, Multi, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Praise Kink, Punishment, Sub!Jaskier, Switch!Geralt, Touch-Starved Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:08:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22990723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schreibzumlesen/pseuds/schreibzumlesen
Summary: Geralt needs to be punished.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Jaskier | Dandelion & Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Series: rattle your chains if you love being free [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1622392
Comments: 18
Kudos: 329





	Forgiveness

Usually it is Jaskier who gets punished, for disobedience, for lying, or for just being a brat in general. And, it is easy, too, for Yennefer or Geralt to find a way to discipline him: A harsh spanking works, gags are a great method to shut him up, or a bar of soap serves its purpose when Jaskier includes too much information about their private lives in his songs.

With Geralt… it’s more complicated. He doesn’t allow himself to sink to his knees as often as Jaskier needs them to take over, and when he does, they’re all aware of the differences between Witcher and bard. Geralt doesn’t care much about pain, so when Yennefer smacks his arse when she tells him to get her some wine, it doesn’t quite have the same effect as it does on Jaskier. She notices, because of course she does, and forces him to talk about his own expectations while she pets and occasionally pulls on his hair if she’s not satisfied with his answers.

So, there’s that. She knows, he knows, Jaskier knows how their dynamic is and what role each of them plays.

Therefore, it’s expectantly odd when Geralt fucks up and Yennefer tells him without hesitation that he will be punished.

“For… what?” he asks and then: “How?” He isn’t nervous, it’s not that and it takes Geralt a couple of moments to identify the sickening feeling gnawing on his stomach and heart.

Guilt. Shame…

Fuck.

“I don’t have to tell you for what,” Yennefer replies and she runs her fingertips carefully over Geralt’s bruised ribs and the spectacular bite mark that is hidden beneath white bandages. “You do not withhold information regarding your health. Never. Understood?”

“Yes,” Geralt breathes. Stupid, he knows it was stupid. And yet… it was hard to tell such news when Yen and Jaskier seemed mostly carefree and distracted by Jaskier’s poetry and their bickering. It was hard for Geralt to willingly turn their glowing eyes into looks of worry which is why he chose to hide it instead, until Yennefer decided to undress him painfully slow today, two days later. She isn’t interested in sex anymore now, she made her – and Geralt’s – priority for that moment clear.

“I will need Jaskier,” she says and her hand leaves Geralt’s skin. “Get him for me, please.”

“Yes,” Geralt says again because there isn’t anything else he could answer.

It’s only when he arrives in front of Jaskier’s room in the vast house they currently live in that he’s aware how he looks. His hair is dishevelled, he is stark naked and the only thing that covers parts of his skin are the bandages around his torso. Jaskier… Jaskier won’t be pleased, Geralt assumes. He knocks, nevertheless.

“Come in,” the bard calls in a cheery voice and Geralt enters without another thought. “Geralt, I was just- What happened? What… What happened?” Immediately, Jaskier gives up his seat at the window and walks over to Geralt to examine the concealed wound. He doesn’t touch him like Yennefer had, just hovers his hand above the strips of cloth around Geralt’s ribs. “Oh… Oh no. Are you alright?”

“Fine,” Geralt replies. He hates how Jaskier’s eyebrows are drawn together in concern and how one of his hands twitches aimlessly at his side, a sign that Jaskier is anxious, because of him, because of the danger that accompanies Geralt’s life. “Yennefer wants you.”

“Sure,” Jaskier says and tears his eyes away from Geralt’s body. “Lead the way?”

Geralt turns around and is almost glad that Jaskier is behind him so that he doesn’t have to see his face.

Love, or whatever it is that they all share, can be awful, he thinks.

It doesn’t take long for them to get to Yennefer’s room where she is already waiting.

“Geralt made a mistake,” she informs Jaskier bluntly and Jaskier nods, not resisting the truth, not opposing the obvious. “He will be punished.”

Jaskier nods again, this time less certain, and he glances at Geralt like the thought that he might fuck up and that Yennefer will do something to prevent it from happening once more has never occurred to him. Geralt guesses, it is strange to Jaskier indeed, since the bard probably considers his own punishments and knows instinctively that none of them would work on Geralt.

“Lie on the bed, Geralt. On your back,” Yennefer instructs him and Geralt obeys silently. “We’re going to make sure that you talk to us.”

Right now, she could do anything to him and Geralt would accept it. He doesn’t fear her, he just… wants her trust back, and Jaskier’s, and he wants them to smile instead of looking at him like that, Jaskier unsure, Yennefer stern. He wants to be forgiven.

Yennefer kneels over him and binds Geralt’s hands to the headboard, and even now she uses silk scarfs for that instead of hard cuffs or shackles. Geralt is grateful, but he doesn’t deserve it. Not after disappointing them.

Then Yennefer bends down low and she looks at him, her gaze so intense that Geralt feels exposed and defenceless and then she kisses him, very sweetly, and incredibly gently, just a brush of her lips against his. “Jaskier,” she calls quietly and suddenly Jaskier is at their side and he kisses Geralt, too, not on the mouth, but his cheek and neck and shoulder, light pecks against his skin.

And then… Yennefer’s hand closes around his cock, and despite the situation, despite the fact that this is clearly a punishment, Geralt can’t help but moan hoarsely and he closes his eyes.

Shit.

Shit, fuck, damn, they’re _good_ and there are hands on him everywhere and Jaskier’s tongue is on his skin and Yennefer’s mouth on his own and fuck, please, he wants… He _wants_.

“Talk to us,” Yennefer demands and it’s easy to _know_ but hard to _say_.

“Please,” he gets out. “Please, I… Please?”

“No,” Yennefer responds. “Not good enough.”

Geralt knows. He _knows_ that it’s not, but after a while Jaskier’s fingers, covered in oil, slip into his hole and they twist and Geralt is lost and he is no poet, no bard, words are hard, words are so so hard to find and to say.

“Please,” he repeats, fully aware that the word alone, without anything added, makes him sound pathetic.

Yennefer twists Geralt’s body, turns him on his side and slaps his arse for that, hard, and yes. Of course, Geralt can do better.

“Try again,” she suggests and he does.

“Stay. Please… Please, stay and… and-“ He loses every coherent thought as Jaskier finds that one wonderful spot inside of him while Yennefer pinches one of Geralt’s nipples and bites his neck at the same time.

“And what?” Yennefer wants to know, ever determined, ever in control.

Lost in their attention, Geralt just moans. And what? And what? He wants- No, he needs…

“Teach me to be good,” he rasps. “Teach me to be yours.” Yennefer’s hands find all the right places on and around his cock and Geralt can’t stop, he needs the release, he is so _addicted_ to their touch and he is falling apart, little by little.

“Look how good you are,” Yennefer praises him. “You’re so good when you tell us how you feel.”

He is. He probably is, he wants to be good for them. Geralt opens his eyes and he can’t quite focus but Yennefer pets his hair with one hand and strokes his cock with the other and she is so beautiful, inside and outside that it hurts to look at her. Geralt turns his head and there is Jaskier and he smiles encouragingly and Geralt needs him so much, needs all of the sunlight in his life that he can get.

“Please, may I-“

“No,” Yennefer says, still in that kind tone and her hand never leaves his cock. “You may not.”

Geralt whines at that, actually whimpers like a kicked dog. But he obeys, he can’t not do it. His cock is hard and leaking and with Jaskier’s fingers inside of him he feels full and good but Yennefer doesn’t allow it so Geralt endures everything that they give him and tells them, tells them all they want to know.

He doesn’t get permission to come that day and when they repeat this session the next day, he doesn’t get it either.

Yennefer doesn’t let him come until his wound is fully healed and it’s on day four when Geralt cries in the middle of their devoted torture, not even conscious that tears are running down his cheeks and dampen the pillow beneath his head.

Finally, when there are no more bruises decorating his pale skin and bandages aren’t needed anymore, Yennefer replaces her hands on Geralt’s cock with Jaskier’s. She cups Geralt’s face and kisses his forehead and tells him, that now, he is forgiven, and that she will always take care of him. He does get permission then, but the relief doesn’t nearly feel as good as Jaskier’s and Yennefer’s arms around him when he promises in a slurred voice not to hide again.

“Good boy,” Yennefer whispers and it makes Geralt’s heart ache with pleasure. Jaskier sighs happily. “Our good wolf.”

Geralt needs and he wants and he loves.

Both of them.


End file.
